The Painter and the Dreamer
by Redwhale6
Summary: Arthur lives and works at a manor. He is entranced by some of the amazing pieces of art, but can't find who made them. Once he finds the artist he has to save him! Is he willing to risk his life? And what will happen to the artist? How could that even be possible! Magic isn't real... is it? (T for language, France, and possible drama! dun dun dun)
1. Chapter 1

The Painter and the Dreamer

Arthur Kirkland led a simple life. He had graduated high school second in his class. He had gotten into one of the best colleges for writers. He even minored in business. Then his stupid friend Francis Bonnefoy inherited a huge ass fortune. He of course asked Arthur to look after the family mansion and even gave him a room in it.

So now here he was living in a mansion all by himself. He was in charge of making sure it was clean and everything was working. He even had a small crew of people to help him.

Antonio Fernandez Carriedo was the second in command. He would come by every Saturday with Lovino and Feliciano Vargas. They would, with the help of Arthur, tidy everything and dust all the antiques. Twice a month Ludwig Beilschmidt would come to check all the appliances since some of them are almost as old as the house.

The original house was almost two hundred years old. It had been built by a man who had fought in the American Revolution. When the British lost he fled back to England bringing with him a few foreigners. They had put together the money to build the, at the time, small mansion. However over the years it had grown into a huge manor.

Twenty bedrooms ,not including the servant area, four sitting rooms on the first floor, three sitting rooms on the second, one ridiculous kitchen, two bars, one amazing game room, twenty-three bathrooms, a library, and a huge main hall. That's not including every servant's stair. There had to be at least five little passages that led around the manor.

The manor it's self was a masterpiece. Every column had a detailed design and every floor was either hard wood or fancy ass carpet. A few room had the original wall paper. Even though some of it was faded these rooms were the best. The main hall was decorated with beautiful paintings from all over the world. None of the artists were that famous but every painting was gorgeous.

Still Arthur's favourite place was the library. It was a large two story room with books lining seven of the eight walls. The only wall bare of book was the one that had the door. However it was not bare. Almost every inch of it was covered in paintings. They appeared to be by the same artist but none of them were signed. Arthur had tried many times to discover the artist but had no luck. Francis eventually made him give up telling him to leave it a mystery.

However Arthur wanted to know. Every panting was a masterpiece. Most were landscapes but there was a family portrait. Well not exactly family. It depicted the man who built the house (who looked strangely similar to Arthur with the enormous eyebrows), a young woman who was supposedly Francis's ancestor, the woman's husband a burly Scot, and a young maid girl who must have been important to be in the painting, and a Danish knight. However if you were to examine it further you would realize that there was an empty seat. Someone was missing from the painting.

"Non that should be everyone." Francis said looking at said painting.

"Then why is there an extra seat?" Arthur asked.

"Maybe for effect?" Francis said shrugging.

"That's ridiculous…but there seems no reason for it." Arthur said shaking his head and carefully placing the painting back on the wall.

"Maybe it's about the manor's painter" Francis teased referring to how the paintings were all made by one person yet that was all that person ever made.

"For all we know that painter was one of the people in the painting. Or even a servant" Arthur said choosing not to attack his land lord.

"Oui but we will never know~" Francis said practically dancing out of the library.

"Sadly…" Arthur said following him out of the huge library.

If only Arthur had known then that his mystery would soon be solved. Would he have rejoiced? Probably not, for it made an even bigger mystery. Some folly fools would call it a romance, but Arthur would call it an adventure. It just so happens to end happily ever after.

_**Notes~**_

_**Ok so here's the first part. Short and sweet. This story was inspired by a painting in a mansion that my mother cleans. She's the boss lady and has a crew of people to help her. Usually just one other person since the real mansion is nothing like the manor described. I got this idea when I went to help her with laundry last Sunday. I've been to the mansion many times before but never had I noticed a certian painting. Odly enough it's a depressing landscape in the children's room. Weird right? Anyway this story is gonna be at least fithteen chapters if I'm estimating right. Most of the chapters will be longer.**_

_**And that's the longest note I've written. Please reveiw! It makes me write faster~ Otherwise I think no one is reading and might give up (yes I'm bribing you)!**_

_**Float On~**_

_***Wake Me Up***_

_**-Red**_


	2. Chapter 2: strange Paintings

Strange painting

"Careful! If you drop that!" Arthur let the threat hang.

"ja ja I'll be careful" Ludwig said holding the chair above him.

"Don't hit the ceiling!" Feli said holding a potted plant behind him. They were moving the furniture around in the children's room.

"Right" Ludwig said lowering the chair so it wouldn't hit the ceiling.

"I think if we put the chair there that will be it" Arthur said pushing the bed back in place and pointing to the desk across the room.

"Ja I think that will work" Ludwig said putting the chair where Arthur had pointed.

"Arthur~ Have you seen this picture?" Feli said placing the plant next to a book case.

"What picture?"

"This one~" Feli moved the bookcase over slightly revealing a painting behind it.

"Weird…why would anyone cover it?" Arthur said examining it. It was a desolate landscape, a gloomy field with trees surrounding it. All in all it was a depressing sight. However it had to be one of the best paintings in the house.

"Maybe it was too sad?" Feli said with less bubbly enthusiasm than normal. "It makes me think of sad things…"

"Oi! Fratello! Come help with lunch!" Lovino called from downstairs.

"Coming~" Feli said prancing out of the room.

"Thanks for the help Ludwig"

"Nein problem" the German man said following Feli out of the room.

"Man of few words…" Arthur said shaking his head. Arthur had chosen to move into the children's room. It had better heating and was rather close to the library. It also had a passage in the closet that lead into the kitchen and its own bathroom.

"I'll deal with this later" Arthur said leaving the room and going to get some lunch.

Little did he know that 'dealing' with this painting would be more work than he could possible imagine.

**OOOOOOOAFTER LUNCHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"That was grand Feli!" Arthur said washing his plate. The two Italian brothers had made pasta with fresh tomatoes. It had been truly delicious.

"thanks~" Feli said putting away pans. "But Lovino made the sauce"

"He did a good job" Arthur said nodding.

"He will be glad to hear it!"

"Thanks for staying to help me clean" Arthur said handing Feli another pan.

"No problem~ Though I had another motive" Feli admitted.

"And what would that be?"

"I want to get another look at the dipinto maledetto." Feli said a little more serious.

"I'm sorry the what?"

"The painting we found in your room" Feli said his smile gone now.

"Oh erm sure" Arthur said finishing the dishes. He led Feli to his room. No matter how many times he'd been shown around he always got lost.

"What did you call it?" Arthur said looking at the painting again.

"The cursed painting. It fits it" Feli said shrugging.

"I guess it does…" the painting reminded Arthur of the day one his family had died in that fatal crash. Leaving him all alone…

"I better go…" Feli said. It sounded like he was holding back tears.

"If you go through the passage in the closet it leads straight to the kitchen." Arthur said showing Feli said passage. Feli only nodded and took his directions. There was a door outside from the kitchen so he should be good…

"What could possibly make this painting so sad?" Arthur thought aloud. He'd seen plenty of gloomy paintings. Never had any of them had this effect on him. He wanted to tear it down and cry at the same time. In the end he settled for just taking it down.

"What the hell?" Behind where the painting had been was another painting. It was the same size as the other one so it was half of Arthur's height. This had been painted directly on the wall though. It was an amazing likeness of a young man. He was sitting at a desk and had a pile of books behind him. His head was resting on the desk so he appeared to be fast asleep.

"Why would you cover a painting with a painting?" Arthur asked confused. This one wasn't depressing like the other had been. The man looked peaceful almost. He had messy blonde-ish hair and was wearing clothes from when the house was first built. He might have been friend of the original owner…

"It's so realistic…" it was. It looked almost like a photograph. The way the light spilled into the room from an unknown source, how every detail had been added, how the sleeping man almost seemed to breathe in and out in his sleep.

"Why would someone paint this on a wall?" Arthur said slowly bringing a hand up to touch the painting. Right before he touched it the sleeping man's eyes flew open.

"Hello!" he said excitedly.

"THE FUCK!" Arthur said falling back.

"Wait you heard me!" the man said his eyes widening.

"what the hell…maybe I over worked myself…" He had been up late trying to move some of the smaller pieces of furniture. Then he got up early to help clean… but he wasn't that tired.

"Dude!" the man said pumping his fist and standing up.

"My name is not dude!" Arthur snapped. He hated it when people used slang like that.

"Then what is your name?"

"Arthur…"

"I'm Alfred F. Jones! I'd shake your hand but…I'm stuck in a painting…"

"Yea I'm defiantly hallucinating."

"Pfft I'm too awesome to be a hallucination!"

"Yet I'm pretty sure in the 1700s they didn't use words like 'dude' and 'awesome'" Arthur shook his head. Maybe that pasta had been bad.

"Well I overhear stuff. I have been stuck here for years! Actually what year is it?" Alfred said looking a little hopeful.

"2013" Arthur said. Alfred opened his mouth to say something then closed it again. He sat down on the edge of the desk.

"Damn…that's a long time…"

"What year did you think it was?"

"Well when I first got put in this damn painting it was?"

"it was 1783 last time I checked." Alfred said flatly. Arthur whistled. Two hundred thirty years. That was a long time.

"Yea…"

"So how am I sure I'm not hallucinating?"

"Touch the painting it's just a painting." Alfred said rolling his eyes. How could anyone not believe what their eyes were telling them?

"okay…" Arthur said leaning forward and putting his hand on the painting. What neither he or Alfred were expecting was that his hand went through the wall.

"Holy fuck!" Arthur said his eyes widening.

"CONSARN*!" Alfred yelled. He lunged forward and grabbed Arthur's hand pulling him into the painting.

"FUCK!" Arthur said as he seemed to pass through a portal almost. For a moment the world was nothing but blackness, but it passed quickly. Now he was on the floor of a small room. The wall opposite the painting was piled with books, papers, paints, and brushes. The wall to the left had another painting on it. This one was all black though. Then to the there was a doorway to what must have been a bedroom.

"what the fuck!" Arthur said on the floor.

"the hell!" Alfred stared at him. "How is that even possible?"

"How should I know?! You're the one who pulled me into this!" Arthur snapped standing up.

"Yea but only like three people have ever been able to hear me! None of them could come in!" Alfred said pacing.

"Hell if I know!" Arthur half yelled. God don't have a panic attack.

"Calm down. You should be able to get back out."

"Then why don't you leave?" Arthur said trying desperately to control his breathing.

"I'm forced to be here. You came of your own accord."

"I wouldn't call being pulled in is of my own free will!" Arthur snapped.

"Yea but you could have stopped" Alfred said rolling his eyes.

"I don't- pause for breath- think so" Arthur was having a panic attack. DAMN IT!

"fuck you okay?" Alfred said stopping his infernal pacing.

"no…" Arthur said before passing out.

**OOOOOOOOOOTHENEXTMORNINGOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"ow…" Arthur said sitting up in his bed. Well at first he thought it was. He thought maybe that had been a dream and he would wake up to find the sad painting still on the wall. However he had no such luck.

"Arthur?" Alfred said from outside the room.

"fuck…"Arthur said realizing he was in Alfred's bed.

"Stay still you hit your head pretty hard when you passed out." Alfred said walking in. He was carrying a breakfast tray with tea, scones, and eggs on it.

"I can tell" Arthur said wincing at his own voice. "I haven't had a head ache since I was last hung over."

"That sounds like fun" Alfred chuckled. He set the tray beside Arthur.

"thanks" Arthur said blushing. He tried to get up but Alfred pushed him back into the bed.

"Dude you're not getting up until you can stand up on your own."

"I can stand on my own!" Arthur hissed and trying to do just that. However his legs were wobbly at best and he fell forward. Thankfully Alfred caught him.

"yea totally" Alfred chuckled. Arthur blushed since he was leaning on Alfred's chest. Alfred was a good head taller than him.

"Okay maybe not" Arthur said sitting on the bed behind him.

"Try eating something. It's been almost a day since you first came in." Alfred said.

"How can you tell?" Arthur said nibbling on a scone.

"Since you moved the painting in front of this one I can see the light from what I'm assuming is a window." Alfred shrugged. Maybe he was smarter than he looked.

"So where did this food come from?"

"Norge always sends food." Alfred sighed.

"Who?"

"The man who trapped me in here."

"Um than why would he keep you fed?"

"Because he only did it because of what I did…let's just say I might deserve being stuck in here eternally."

"Great I'm in a painting with a mass murder" Arthur said rolling his eyes.

"Um no the only people I killed was during the war…"

"The American Revolution?!" Arthur said his eyes as big as the scone he had just devoured.

"Yea…" Alfred said.

"Damn…"

"I guess that would be one thing to say" Alfred said sighing.

"Will you tell me why you're trapped here?"

"Maybe one day…but not now."

"Ok…but that assuming I don't just paint over this weird thing and forget you"

"You could try but I'm told I'm memorable." Alfred laughed. Arthur only rolled his eyes.

"Besides it wouldn't work. This painting would just appear somewhere else in the house."

"So I'm stuck with you?"

"Kinda!" Alfred said happily.

"Am I free to go though?" Arthur asked a little afraid he would say no. Alfred was larger and apparently stronger than Arthur. If he wanted to he could keep him here.

"Well duh! Just promise me one thing."

"And that would be?"

"Come back and visit me!" Alfred said his eyes full of hope. Arthur sighed. There was no way he could not. He wanted to know what Alfred did and he was more than curious about this mini world.

"Yes, in fact I'll come back tomorrow."

"Great!" Alfred said pulling Arthur into a death grip hug.

"Don't kill me!" Arthur squeaked.

"Sorry" Alfred laughed and let him go. "You're the first person I've talked to since WWII…Whatever that is…"

"Um big war"

"I kinda assumed…"

"I'll catch you p on history when I come back!" Arthur promised walking towards the door. He was about to step into the painting when he faintly heard Alfred say "Please come back…"

OOOOOOOOOOOONOTESOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_***Consarn is an old cuss~ look up old english swears it hilarious some of the things I found.**_

_**Hope you guys enjoyed! Someone asked me if Alfred was magic and no he isn't. All your questions will be answered in due time! I'm really enjoying writing this. Less awkward than the PruCan but not as historical as weird as the Closets... Also more msyterious!(SPOILERS)**__** It is norge in the 'family' portrait. And can you guess who's missing?! Also the ships featured as of now are : FrUk (but with Scotland), DenNor (Ican't help myself), UsUk (duh), hinted at Spamano and GerIta. Italy will actually be an important character! Can you believe it?! I can't! I never write anything with Italy not a side character. Well that unnamed GerIta but...**_

_**Please review and follow and fav and just tell me what the fuck I should do next! Please I need sooooo much feedback on this one!**_

_**I still belong!**_

_**-Cradle of Human Kind-**_

_**-Red**_


	3. Chapter 3: Visiting

Visits

Arthur spent the next few hours after leaving the painting just staring at it.

"How is that possible?" Arthur used to believe in magic but he had grown up. His imaginary friends had left him. Even his magic had left.

'_Of course you never had magic because magic isn't real' _he told this to himself a hundred times as he prepared to visit Alfred the next day. But if magic wasn't how could he explain the fire? Or the disappearing objects? Or that infernal painting.

"That should be plenty." Arthur said as he packed a history book into his bag. He thought Alfred should be caught up to modern history. After all he only knew up to the American Revolution. A lot had happened since then.

"Better be off then…" Arthur was a little nervous about going back. What if he got trapped? That wouldn't be good…but he had made a promise to the American. One he intended to keep. So as much as he would have liked to ignore his conscious he moved the sad painting and pushed his hand through the one on the wall. He was soon pulled through and brought into a monstrous hug.

"Hesh Alfred let go of me" Arthur said blushing.

"You actually came back" Alfred was on the verge of tears. The poor bastard had thought Arthur would leave him alone. No Arthur had been left too much to leave someone all alone like that.

"Yes I came back!" Arthur said pushing the American away.

"Sorry it's just no one ever came back…After I talked with them they fled and covered up the painting again…" Alfred said smiling sadly.

"I'm not the others" Arthur said smiling. Alfred needed cheering up.

"Yeah I guess you aren't" Alfred smiled brightly before pulling Arthur over to the desk where he had somehow found another chair. He sat on one side of the desk with Arthur in the other.

"So what you want to do?" Alfred asked his eyes full of childish glee.

"Well I thought you might want to hear what's happened since you were put in here…" Arthur trailed off when he saw the American flinch.

"Yea…Sure why not?!" Alfred said hiding his discomfort behind a sad smile.

"You sure?" Arthur said not fooled by the fake smile. He knew too much about them.

"Yea I mean I'm sure a lot of stuff happened since then"

"Okay…" Arthur said pulling out the history book. He had bought it when he was in college so it was a good one. For some reason he had thought it American history would be an easy class. Maybe a little pointless in the UK but still easy. He had been wrong though. It was a very hard class that required too much of his attention. He had stuck with it though and managed to pass it with straight As.

"Wow! What's that?" Alfred said pointing to a car on the cover.

"Erm…that's a car. It's an American invention that revolutionized transportation." Arthur said awkwardly. It was going to be a long day.

**OOOOOTIMESKIPBROUGHTTOYOUBYTURTLESOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

"Cool!" Alfred said as he looked at pictures of new inventions. Well new to him. Arthur had tried to stay on the happier side of American history. But Alfred had been very interested in the Civil war. He had cursed the South for being so brash and cheered when he heard the North won.

"I fought for everyone's freedom not just for white people." Alfred told Arthur when asked why he felt so strongly about it.

All in all the afternoon was pleasant. It was late when they finally stopped talking. This was only because Alfred had fallen asleep and Arthur was about to. He considered getting up and leaving, but dismissed the thought when he thought of how Alfred would react. He sat back in his chair and was soon asleep.

**OoOoOTHENEXTMORNINGOoOoOoOoOoOTIMESKIPBYMUTANTCATSTAKINGOVERTHEWORLDOoOoOo**

Arthur woke up in Alfred's bed again. But this time he wasn't alone. Alfred was curled up beside him. He must have brought to Brit here last night after he fell asleep. Arthur didn't want to disturb him while he was sleeping so soundly so he just lay there waiting for Alfred to wake up. He didn't have much else to do so he thought about Alfred.

'_He must have been so lonely living alone for almost two hundred years. I don't think I could take it'_ Then again Arthur had dealt with loneliness before. _'No I don't need to think about that now. I don't want to ruin Alfred's day by waking him up crying'_

However his mind still drifted back to his first day at the orphanage. It had also been the day his imaginary friends first came into the picture. They had promised to look after him and help him with what would come. This only confused young Arthur but he was glad to have friends. At least he was until he was picked on for having them. He ignored them around people and only told them how sorry he was when he was alone. His life went like this for two years before the first incident happened. An older boy Allistor had caught Arthur talking to fairies and was calling him mad and stupid and many other worse things. Arthur was crying and Allistor was yelling at him. Right when he had gone to kick Arthur his hair caught on fire randomly. He had panicked and run off. Things like this continued to happen for many years. And the orphanage being the nice Catholic place it was hated Arthur for it. Soon his fairies left and Arthur's only friend was Gilbert. Thankfully Gilbert was a real person. He was an outcast like Arthur but for different reasons. His hair was whitish silver and his eyes were crimson pools. He was a crazy little boy who was loud and obnoxious but he was also kind and didn't judge Arthur by what other's said. They had been best friends until he had been adopted. Everyone was surprised but Gilbert's little brother Ludwig had refused to leave without him. So Arthur was left alone. Again.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked sleepily. Arthur had started to silently cry. He quickly wiped his tears and refused to look at Alfred.

"What?"

"Were you crying?"

"No I wasn't git" Arthur said getting up. Before he could though Alfred pulled him back onto the bed so he was sitting across from him.

"I'll be honest with you if you're honest with me "Alfred said expectantly. Arthur sighed but he knew he had to answer.

"I was thinking about my time at an orphanage and it always makes me cry thinking about it." Arthur wouldn't meet Alfred's eyes.

"Oh…" Alfred said awkwardly. He sat there for a moment before pulling Arthur towards him into a hug.

"Hey! Let me go!" Arthur said blushing since he was pressed against Arthur's chest.

"Don't be sad Artie!" Alfred said hugging 'Artie'.

"Git! My name is Arthur! Not Artie!" Arthur said smiling. Alfred had managed to cheer him up with a single sentence.

"Yeah that's why I nicknamed you Artie!" Alfred said cheerfully. Arthur rolled his eyes and stood up. He glanced at his watch and was horrified to find that it was in fact the almost noon.

"Crap! I need to go! But I'll be back tomorrow!" Arthur said as he ran out of the painting. He thought he might have heard Alfred say something but he wasn't sure.

"I believe you…"

**OoOoOINOURWORLDOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOMAGICWAFFLLES!OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO**

"Yes yes I know I'm late but I'll be there in a few minutes! Okay frog!" Arthur snapped into the phone. Since he had accidentally spent the night in the painting he was late to lunch with Francis.

Twice a month the two met up to talk about the manor and discuss life in general. Now to say they were friends would be an assumption. No they were not enemies. Not anymore. However they were not the best of friends either. Arthur didn't like Francis's flirty manner or his sense of food. Francis had originally wanted nothing more than to get in Arthur's pants but the two ended up stuck together (as friends) after Francis's ,now, late grandmother had read one of Arthur's articles. She had loved it and asked Francis to set up a meeting with Arthur. Both of them had been shocked to see the other after the one night stand. Neither had been looking for anymore than that.

So they worked together and once did it. Nothing more. That didn't stop Francis from trying to get back in his pants. Thankfully he took the hint though that Arthur didn't want him. Well Arthur didn't really want anyone so it was fine. Plus Francis was already after someone else, some Scottish girl.

"Damn" Arthur muttered as he got dressed and left the manor to meet Francis at a small café nearby. He was wearing an old Beatles shirt and skinny jeans. He knew he would get a comment on his arse but he didn't care. He didn't have time to dress in anything nice.

"Mon ami! You're finally here!" Francis called from a table in the window.

"Sorry frog I just slept in" Arthur lied. He hated doing so even if it was to the frog.

"You never sleep in!" Francis scoffed.

"I was up late"

"Doing what? Or should I ask who?" Francis asked raising an eyebrow.

"I was reading" Arthur said rolling his eyes. Francis found it hilarious to bother him about his love life.

"You're no fun!" Francis pouted.

"Maybe but I have things I need to do so let's just review the paper work so I can go home."

"Okay~"

**OoOoOAFTERLUNCHOoOoOoOoOoOKNEELESSPENGUINSOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOOoOoOo**

"Au revoir~" Francis said running out of the café to catch a date.

"Bye frog" Arthur sighed. He didn't have anything to do now. He could always go back and do something boring at the manor but… 'Wait I could always go see Alfred!' That decided it he would go back and see Alfred early.

"I'm sure the git will be happy for the company." Arthur said walking back to the manor. He wandered in from the kitchen and through the passage to his room. It was still rather messy from just moving in but it was still presentable.

"I'll clean in it later" Arthur said pushing a hand back through the magic painting. This time he wasn't pulled through. He had to climb through very awkwardly and once he was through he fell on his arse.

"Great job Arthur" he said criticizing himself.

"Alfred? You here?" he said wandering into the bedroom since he wasn't in the main study area. Arthur found him sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Arthur froze in the doorway at the sight. He hadn't noticed just how muscular Alfred was. He had a sculpted body and even after years of being stuck inside he had a slight tan. Maybe he had some Native American blood in him.

"Alfred?" Arthur said quietly from the doorway. He hoped he wasn't blushing but he probably was.

"Huh?" The American said raising his head.

"Hey I thought I'd come back early…" Arthur drifted off as Alfred jumped up with a huge grin. The towel was barely staying on slipped to the side to show off Alfred's hip.

"Hey!" said the oblivious American.

"Um…you wanna get dressed?" Arthur said this time knowing he was blushing. Damn the man was sexy in a casual way. Did he practice that?!

"Oh…" Alfred said blushing at the realization that (shocker!) he was wearing only a towel. "Be right back"

"Right…" Arthur stood in the doorway awkwardly as the American went over to what must be a bathroom. After a moment he came back out wearing clothes.

"So…" Alfred said shifting foot to foot awkwardly.

"What do you do for fun?" Arthur blurted out. He had wondered what Alfred did for two hundred years.

"I go to the pond" Alfred said blinking. He was unprepared for that.

"What pond?"

"There's one in this painting" Alfred said walking towards the main study. Arthur moved so he could go by and Alfred showed him a painting that he had missed before. It was hidden behind a pile of books.

"I can go to all the paintings in the manor." Alfred explained. "The painting you come in from is stuck to that painting but this one can go to any painting. But it takes me into the painting not the real world."

"Will you take me there?" Arthur said hopefully. There was a painting of a pretty pond in the library.

"Sure but only if we can have a picnic!" Alfred said even more hopeful than Arthur.

"Um…I can go get some food quick…" Arthur said gesturing to the painting he came from.

"Great!" Alfred said happily. 'He probably only eats what Norge gets him' Arthur thought as he quickly left the painting and grabbed a basket and some food from the kitchen. He decided against bringing any scones and instead grabbed some left over cake and pasta. Ludwig's friend Rodrich always gave him some whenever he visited so Ludwig always brought some.

"Here we go" Arthur said throwing the basket through the painting first before stepping in. This time Alfred pulled him through…

"Ow" Alfred said. He had pulled too hard and Arthur had landed on him making him fall. So now Arthur was on top of him. And to add to the awkward Arthur's legs were on either side of him and he was blushing like crazy.

"Sorry dude" Alfred laughed. Arthur quickly got up and grabbed the basket. He did not like the thoughts that had come into his head. Like how sculpted Alfred's chest was. Or how that little cowlick stuck up. Or how he had enjoyed landing like that. 'No stop' He mentally scolded himself.

"So where to?" Arthur said ignoring those annoying little thoughts.

"Here just give me a second…" Alfred ran over to his desk and fished around until he found one paper. It had a drawing of the painting in the library on it. Alfred held it in front of the blank painting. It changed from blank to an exact copy of the one in the library.

"Interesting…" Arthur said as Alfred backed away.

"Ladies first" Alfred said gesturing for Arthur to go.

"I'm not a girl!" Arthur hissed but Alfred already pushed him through. He landed (again on his arse) in a field by the pond. He glanced behind him and saw that there was just a floating picture frame. The picnic basket flew through and Arthur quickly rolled out of the way as Alfred followed. He didn't land bad though. He came through on his feet and was carrying a blanket.

"What are you doing on the ground?" he asked in mock surprise.

"Git" Arthur said standing up. He followed Alfred towards to pond where they set up the picnic. The blanket was spread across the ground with the two of them sitting on it. Alfred was surprised by the cake and gave Arthur yet another bear hug. They sat in silence for a moment as Alfred gobbled up three pieces of said cake.

"So Arthur why don't you tell me more about your life?" Alfred asked breaking the silence.

"Sure…Let's see when I was seven my parents and brothers died in a car crash so I was sent to Pangaea* Catholic Orphanage. I didn't have many friends well that's not true. I had many imaginary friends but only two real ones. Gilbert an albino and Anny*. But Anny got adopted soon after I moved there by some rich guy. And a couple years later Gilbert was too. I stayed there until I was sixteen. Then I moved into Hetalia High. I graduated top of my class. Got into an awesome college. Even got an internship at a major newspaper. Then Francis offered me a position at the manor. So I write from here er there and send in my weekly copy." Arthur shrugged.

"What do you mean by imaginary friends?" Alfred said putting the plates back into the basket.

"I mean friends that only I could see, because they-" he was cut by Alfred's hand clamping over his mouth.

"Don't you dare say they weren't real" he said in a very serious tone.

"But they were-" Alfred put more pressure so Arthur couldn't say it.

"Magic is very real. The fact that we're in a painting is proof enough. Not to mention the I've been in it for two hundred years." This was a different side of Alfred. He was dead serious.

"Okay..."Arthur said nodding since Alfred couldn't hear him.

"Sorry about that but doubting magic is part of how I got stuck here" Alfred sighed.

"Are you willing to tell me now?" Arthur asked. He was very curious to know what the kind American had done that would deserve two hundred years of loneliness.

"...yes but you can't interrupt and don't hate me by the end of it." Alfred said.

"Deal" Arthur waited for Alfred to start.

"It all began when America was still a colony when I was rather young..."

**OoooooooooooooooooNotesOoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo**

_***I was told to reference Pangaea so I did**_

_***hmm... an Anny who was adopted by rich people...**_

_**Hmm... wow I hated this chapter at first but after reading it a billion times for editing I love it. Ahh FrUk fuck buddies. Why not? Besides you have to love France and I hate making him a bad guy so why not a fuck buddy?**_

_**Also you guys might want to read the reviews~**_

_**I started a poll on my page for what X-mas story I should write! Please go vote!**_

_**Oh and I almost forgot! MWHAHAHA! slight cliffhanger!**_

_**Sam's Town**_

_***Faint***_

_**-Red**_


	4. Chapter 4: The Story Of Alfred F Jones

The Story of Alfred F. Jones

"It all began when America was still a colony when I was young. My parents had abandoned me when I was just a babe. I was dropped off on a poor native woman. She did her best to raise me, but when I was six she died of some fever. I was taken in by a full time school full of foreigners. I found it was for all the rich dignitaries' children. All of them were older than me and kinda looked down on the orphanage's ward. Only one really was nice to me. And you seem to have something in common with him" Alfred shook his head sadly.

"His name was Arthur. He cared for me and protected me from all the other children. He was three years older than me so when he was eighteen he adopted me in a way. I mean it wasn't really official since the school had actually just told me to get out before they called and I quote 'I'll make the coppers kick you out for me! They'll find a use for your smart arse in prison!' So I had fled with nothing but the clothes on my back and since Arthur had just inherited his family business he hired me, gave me food and shelter, and all in all saved my life. I worked at his printing company until rumours of uprising started. I went to join them and Arthur wouldn't have it" Alfred looked a little guilty.

"I did come back to work but it was after the Boston Tea Party. Arthur suspected I had something to do with it but didn't say anything. I guess it was around that I realized how much he cared. He took me in even after I probably rebelled. I kinda idolized him for it. Though I don't think I really admitted how I felt for a while." Alfred's voice was barely audible but Arthur understood why.

"When the war really started he was offered a position in the military and he accepted. Even if he had spent half of his life in America he was a British gentleman. He hated that people would even think of rebelling. I however was on the opposite side of the argument. I joined the revolutionists. When I told Arthur he looked devastated. I still remember the look of sadness as he told me the next time we met it would be on a battlefield. And he was right."

"We met near Yorktown. He tried to kill me. Hell he had the gun pointed at my face…but he couldn't do it. He left crying telling me the truth. That was the first time I ever saw him cry. It broke my heart. I let him escape. I didn't see him again until after Yorktown. He was going back to England. He told me I had broken his heart and there was nothing left for him. I wanted to tell him the truth, that I felt the same way, but I couldn't…Instead I told him it was wrong to feel that way about another man and I never wanted to be associated with him again."Alfred was crying slightly but Arthur was too shocked to speak.

"Soon after I started painting. I painted anything I could, mostly landscapes. I hid how I felt behind the happiness of the paintings. One day I painted a picture of Arthur…I had never fully accepted how I felt towards him. I thought it was wrong loving a man. It was a sin. I didn't care anymore though. I went to find anything about him. That's where I met Norge. He knew Arthur well. He said he would help me but it would be a long and tedious journey. I agreed to go. Two days before we were to leave to go to England Norge asked me to make a painting of my study. I did" Alfred had stopped crying but his voice was strained. Even today it was not exactly orthodox.

"I brought it to show him and he looked shocked. He spent the next few hours muttering about some spell. Then one day before we left he asked me to show him the painting again. I did but this time I put it on the table. I thought magic never existed. He told me the truth about Arthur then…He had died three months after the war was over. I was shocked. I found out it was my old regiment that had killed him. I had taught the men how to kill. Now was when Norge told me about the magic. I had never believed in it. But Arthur had. He had used it to try to save himself at the very end, but it didn't work the way it was supposed to. So instead of saving him it cursed him so only his true love could save him." Alfred shook his head.

"I told him there was no such thing as magic. He grew angry at this and told me I was the only one that could save Arthur. He pointed to the painting and said that this was proof that I was the Painter. To this day I still don't know what he meant. But that's when the painting kinda exploded. He screamed and I was pulled into the blast of paint. Nothing was left but a bit of the frame. He then went to England and built the manor. I only know this because of what he did. He enchanted the house so I could travel between all of my paintings, which he had placed in the house. I had been trapped in the painting because of my crimes against magic. By not believing it I only aided Arthur's curse. He died and it was my fault." Now Alfred was crying quite openly. He couldn't stop the tears. It had been years since he even thought about the painful truth.

"I can't even think about my past without crying" Alfred said hopelessly. That's when Arthur reacted (our Arthur my lovelies). He pulled the American towards him and hugged him. It was awkward since Alfred was leaning down crying into his shoulder but it felt like the right thing to do. He had seen this kind of sadness only in stories and his own life. Never had a person trusted him enough to break down in front of him. He was touched that Alfred was that open. It hurt him to see him this sad.

"it's ok…" Arthur said patting Alfred's back. "You're not the only one."

"I just-" Alfred stopped as he realized he was crying openly on a completely stranger. Well maybe not complete but he still hardly knew him. "I'm sorry"

"Don't be I understand" Arthur said nodding. He did understand. "But now I have a few questions"

"Ask away" Alfred said bitterly. He had told him everything. He just felt empty.

"If Norge is from your time how is he still giving you food?"

"He's a fucking sorcerer he lives a long time."

"Okay one other thing…"

"what?" Alfred was tired. He had just poured his heart out.

"What was Arthur's last name?"

"Uh…Kirkland Arthur Kirkland" Alfred said blinking. He hadn't been expecting that.

"weird…" Arthur said shaking his head.

"What's weird?"

"Nothing…we should probably head back. I would like to talk more but its cold here." Arthur said shivering slightly.

"Right" Alfred said standing up and offering Arthur his hand. Arthur took it and soon the two were back in the study.

"So you paint?" Arthur asked sitting in the chair opposite Alfred.

"Yeah I don't have much else to do so I started painting everything I could remember." Alfred shrugged.

"Could I see some of them?"

"Sure!" Alfred had gotten some of his enthusiasm back. Arthur was interested in art! Maybe he could teach him to paint! Alfred walked over to the pile of papers and such behind him and pulled out several canvases.

"Wow!" Arthur said at the beautiful landscapes and pretty sunsets.

"Thanks but these aren't my best" Alfred chuckled.

"Then what are?" Arthur asked cocking his head.

"um well…" Alfred shifted nervously.

"What?"

"Well I um I erm" Alfred was rather flustered now.

"What?!" Arthur really wanted to know.

"er well they're kinda not exactly pg…"Alfred said blushing.

"Art never is" Arthur said rolling his eyes. He had gone to a college with plenty of art. Hell he'd posed for some even. He would never admit it was him in the painting but he had.

"Okay…" Alfred said pulling out his favourite. It was an amazing painting. It really was. Every shape was perfect and every colour the right shade. But what made it less than pg was the subject. It was a man dancing around a bar with nothing an apron. It was only one that covered his er nether regions, but he was dancing so it showed off his body elegantly. To say the least. He was pale but he didn't look sickly. His hair was disheveled and looked like hands had run through it. He had lipstick on his check and a wild grin. Probably drunk and lucky.

"Who is that?" Arthur said holding back a fit of laughter. In the painting the man's head was turned to the side like he was yelling at the bartender.

"That would be Arthur Kirkland" Alfred chuckled. It was kinda nervous but he had said a few minutes ago that he'd fallen for him.

"Well he seems like a fun drunk."

"He was but only if he got really drunk. At first he would be a depressing drunk." Alfred said holding back laughter. "He wasn't allowed back in the pub after this. And he wouldn't show his face on that street for a year after this happened."

"Almost as bad as me" Arthur (again our Arthur) said smiling. Oh the stories he could tell.

"Oh really?" Alfred said raising an eyebrow.

"Last Halloween I woke up in the middle of nowhere wearing only an angel costume, which consisted of wings and a tunic. No pants." Arthur said shaking his head at the memory. He had also had a sore arse but that's not the point.

"Sounds like fun" Alfred chuckled. He was surprised at Arthur's acceptance of him being gay. "Um Arthur…"

"Yes?" Arthur asked as he leaned against the wall.

"Well I never got to ask yesterday and I kinda have to wonder…Is it normally, like now, for people to be gay?" Alfred rushed his words. He felt like he was going to die of embarrassment.

"It depends. Some people are some aren't. Some people hate it, most aren't stupid enough to think it a sin. The world is moving past it. I know quite a few people who swing both ways" Arthur shrugged.

"And you?" Alfred said stepping a little away as not to scare the other man. He didn't want him getting the wrong idea.

"what about me?" Arthur asked raising an eyebrow. An enormous eyebrow.

"Are you gay?" Alfred blurted out. God that was rude.

"Yes I like men. I've been with women but I've always liked men better" Arthur shrugged. To him it wasn't a big deal*.

"Okay so is that why you were so accepting of my er past feelings?"

"Gays couldn't be a new thing. I figured they've been around for hundreds of years."

"That's a good point…"

"Actually I know for a fact there were because otherwise Victorian London would have been a much different place" Arthur said with a smile. "Ever heard of fancy dress parties?"

"yeah actually I have" Alfred laughed. He'd been to one before. He hadn't participated in the costumes but Arthur had. He'd made a convincing girl.

"Well If that's a thing I'm sure gays existed then, too"*

"Probably" Alfred smiled. It was nice to think that maybe it was society not him that was wrong.

"Anyway…" Arthur drifted off as he spotted a blank canvas. "What are you going to paint?"

"Hm?" Arthur pointed to the black canvas. "I haven't had the inspiration to for awhile…"

"I'd love to see you paint. People change when they do something they're passionate about."

"Well…If you want I could paint you" Alfred offered. In truth he wanted to. Arthur was handsome even if he didn't think so. He never thought he was ugly but he didn't consider himself handsome.

"S Sure" Arthur said blushing. The last time he had posed for a painting it had been less pg than the picture of the other Arthur.

"Okay Artie!" Alfred chimed happily grabbing the things he would need. "Just give me a second."

'Right…and my names Arthur git" Arthur said trying to snap, but it he had been smiling so his words lost the menace.

"whatever Artie~" Alfred setting up his canvas on an easel. He walked over to Arthur and stared at him for a moment.

"What?" Arthur said blushing. To modern standards he was basically being 'checked out' and he would have hit Alfred had he not been doing it simply for art.

"Well I'm not sure how I should pose you…I know!" Alfred smiled at the last part and ran off to the pile of paper and other random objects. He came back holding a book. "Just sit and pretend to read." Alfred said pulling the chair out so he would sit. Arthur did as he was told. He was sitting back in the chair with his feet on a stack of other books slightly crossed holding the book just below his face when Alfred was finally satisfied.

"Okay it won't take me long to sketch it" Alfred said grabbing charcoal and quickly drawing the scene before him. He soon had a good sketch and all he needed to do now was paint it. Which would take quite some time. Arthur seemed comfortable enough so he started to mix the paints and paint he background.

While Alfred was focused on him Arthur studied the man. He was attractive, but that wasn't a new thought. He felt sorry for him. He had been trapped here, but he actually thought he deserved it. He hadn't been the one to cast the bloody spell. It had been Arthur's fault for trying to use magic. But he had been guilty of hurting him. No denying that. If he had told him the truth about his feelings things could have been good. But how could he actually except it. Back then it was punishable by death. He didn't blame Alfred for what he did. It was a bad time for such a romance.

However one thing did bother Arthur. He had the same ruddy name as the other man. Kirkland wasn't exactly the rarest name, but how many Arthur Kirklands could use magic. Well see magic in the very least. Arthur was convinced he had seen it as a child. And that he might be using it, not on purpose, to enter the painting. It worried him. Too many coincidences.

"Are you almost done?" Arthur asked. He was tired of staring at the same bloody page. It must have been at least an hour.

"I'm just painting it so if you want it to be incorrect…" Alfred drifted off. That was entirely untrue. He had a photographic memory so he could easily just paint the scene from memory. But he was enjoying watching Arthur too much to do that.

"Fine just bloody hurry"

"Okay~"

This gave Arthur more time to think though. He decided he wanted to free Alfred. He owed him that. _'Wait what? Why do I owe him?'_ Maybe Arthur was going loopy. He decided to forget the whole matter and actually read the book Alfred had given him. It was a romance or at least this page was.

'I am yours. You gave me all so I am yours.'

'Do not pledge yourself to me. I am not a part of love. A simple dreamer lost out of their world. Forever trapped by such wonderful dreams.'

'I am your painter! I shall give you the world you deny yourself! Let the world be an option!'

Arthur stopped when he realized it had said painter. 'I am your painter' What did that mean? Norge had called Alfred the painter. Who was the dreamer? What did any of this mean.

"Alfred have you read this?"

"Hm? Most of it but I didn't really like it so I stopped after the first fight."

"Do you mind if I borrow it?"

"Sure~"

The next few minutes consisted of Arthur staring at the page in the hope that it would give away it's secrets. However it didn't. It only left him feeling more and more confused. By the time Alfred said he could move Arthur had a headache. He was also very stiff from being in the same position for a good three hours.

"What ya think?" Alfred said as Arthur got up to look at the painting. Arthur's jaw dropped. This one was better even than the picture of the past Arthur. It was definitely Arthur sitting reading, but it almost seemed magical. Alfred had added light coming from a candle on a pile of books beside Arthur. It gave Arthur a mysterious look as he read. The shadows lurked behind him making strange shapes suggesting monsters but not enough for there to be anything there. It also made Arthur handsome. Now as I've said before he doesn't consider himself ugly but still. This man was more than handsome he was beautiful.

"It's amazing but that can't be me" Arthur said shaking his head in denial.

"I paint what I see" Alfred said shrugging. Arthur glanced up at him and suddenly reached up and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you" Arthur said smiling. He was probably blushing slightly but not as much as Alfred.

"N no problem."

"I better get going" Arthur said grabbing the picnic basket and running to his exit. "See you tomorrow!"

"See you Artie!" Alfred said happily. But as soon as Arthur left... "Did he just kiss me?" To say he was shocked would be an understatement. What worried him though was the warm feeling he got when he had. He wanted Arthur to kiss him again and again.

"Nope stranger danger" Alfred muttered walking off to his bedroom to get some sleep before he thought about it too much.

What he missed though was the light in the window/painting that Norge always gave him food through. He missed the still young looking man smiling at the new painting. His best piece. Well so far... Not to mention that Arthur had managed to find the first piece of the puzzle. It's funny it took Arthur three days to find it when Alfred hadn't found it in two hundreds years. Sad really.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0oNOTSE0o0o0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

*Arthur's opinion on gay rights is basically mine. I may like guys but you don't have to. Or if you do yay for you! It really doesn't matter!

*I have the same theory. Actually Victorian London fascinates me so fancy dress parties are just the bare minimum of what happened back then. Oh the crazy Victorian times...

Okay before I say anything else. I'm sooooo sorry for making a horrible American mistake. I said the car was an American invention. I kinda knew it wasn't but I wasn't really thinking about it when I wrote it. In fact it was a German invention. Ford just helped out with the assembly line stuff. Thank you sooo much to the reader who saw that.

What you guys think? Not that much to Alfred's back story, but I don't want this too much about his past. I'm a future thinker so I tend not to dwell on the past. Okay not true. not on my past. I love history!

As always please review and follow and blah blah blah...

So for a prize...what references have I made so far? I don't even know so whoever get's the most wins! Also why you people no review! I know your reading it *glare* Seriously I don't know what to do without your reviews!

Hope you're enjoying the cliffy hangings!

(Radioactive)

-Red


	5. Chapter 5:My American Idiot

Chapter three: American Idiot

The next day Arthur spent mostly writing and reading the book he had gotten from Alfred. He was planning to go back to meet Alfred in the early afternoon but was so engrossed by the book he didn't even notice it was late afternoon.

"Shit! Alfred's probably worried sick!" the forgetful Britt said quickly getting up to meet Alfred after glancing at the clock. He didn't even think about the fact he was still wearing his pajamas since on days like this he didn't even have to leave his room. He quickly ran over to the painting and pushed his hand through without a thought about anything other than disappointing the American. He was pulled through as usual.

"Hey Artie!"

"Sorry I'm so late! I got caught up with work"

"Right" Alfred said nodding and sitting at his desk. Unfortunately for Arthur that's when he noticed what the Britt was wearing. "What are you wearing?!"

"Um wha erm…" Arthur was wearing an over sized shirt with a fancy teacup design on it and large sweat pants. "I um I forgot to change…"

"Nice!" Alfred said holding back laughter. The pants had teacups on them too.

"Sh-shut up! I just never changed out my pajamas since I didn't need to!"

"But I thought you were working?" Alfred said raising an eyebrow.

"I was! I was working on editing my article for the newspaper!" Arthur hissed.

"Whatever you say Artie~"

"Humph! Screw you I was working!"

"Well I actually worked too!" Alfred said gesturing to a small pile of canvases.

"On what?"

"I thought it would be cool to visit some of the other paintings on the manor. So I made better copies so I don't have to worry about a bad connection. The better the replica the better the connection."*

"Okay…so where to?"

"Well since you're dressed up so nicely" Arthur glared at him for that "I thought we could go ice-skating"

"Um sure sounds fun" Arthur hated this idea. He couldn't skate for the life of him. In fact last time he had he nearly broke his wrist.*

"Great! Come on!" Alfred grabbed a particular painting and held it up to the magic one. Then before Arthur could protest he pulled him through after him.

"Fuck!" Arthur said as he immediately landed on his arse.

"Wow Artie wipe out in the first three seconds! That has to be a record!"

"Sh-shut it! It's not my fault I wasn't prepared! I don't have any skates" Arthur snapped. He didn't even try to get up as he knew that would only end in him falling again.

"Come on there's some over here!" Alfred said running of in the direction on land. It seemed they were at the same lake as yesterday, but when it was frozen solid.

"I can't even get up! How am I supposed to follow you?" Arthur yelled after the fleeing American.

"I'll just have to come back and get you!"

"Then hurry up!" Arthur cursed under his breath waiting for the American.

"Alright here we go" Alfred said swiftly gliding across the ice. He was oddly graceful for someone so large. He bowed to give Arthur a hand up but when Arthur took it he managed to fall yet again.

"I'll just have to carry you" Alfred said cheerfully as he scooped Arthur up carrying him bridal style back to land.

"Put me down git!" Arthur half yelled blushing like mad.

"Calm down ya limey" Alfred teased.

However unluckily for both of them he hit an uneven piece of ice a few feet from the shore and fell forward on top of Arthur.

"Ow" Arthur groaned as he tried to figure out what happened. He blinked in surprise when he realized Alfred was on top of him with Arthur's legs on either side of him.

"G-get off of me!" Arthur half yelled half whimpered. His mind was wandering to dangerous places.

"Sorry dude" Alfred laughed. God was he clueless. Alfred tried to get up but soon found his ankle was twisted and as soon as he put weight on it he fell onto Arthur again.

"Fuck my ankle's busted." Alfred groaned. It really fucking hurt.

"Great" Arthur sighed. He pushed Alfred up so he was sitting on his knees in front of him. He managed to do the same so they could kinda walk over to shore.

"So how do we get back?" Arthur asked helping the American limp onto land.

"Well we have to wait a little bit for the painting opening to shift back to shore…" Alfred sighed.

"So we're stuck here for a few hours" Arthur deadpanned. Great just what he needed. Time alone with an American idiot in the bloody cold.

"Yup" Alfred said sitting down on a blanket that was near a basket where Alfred had presumably gotten his skates from.

"So what should we do to pass the time?" Arthur asked sitting next to Alfred. He tried to ignore his thoughts of what they could do to pass the time. Damn maybe Arthur needed a good lay just to get such thoughts out of his head. It would slowly work its way into his writing and that would not be good.

"Well let's see what else is in the basket" Alfred said with a shrug.

"You painted it, don't you know?"

"Yea I painted it but that was years ago! I can't remember something so small from so long ago!" Alfred said indignantly. It wasn't true though. He could remember the smallest things from hundreds of years ago. Like the way Arthur (his Arthur) had walked. Or how he would always put extra butter on Alfred's scones just so he would eat them. Or the number of bottles it had taken him to get drunk.

"Well let's see then!" Arthur said, but a voice deep inside of him said _'Liar! You remember everything!'_

"Alright go ahead" Alfred said smiling. He thought there was probably wine, food of some kind, and a book or two in it.

"We have wine, sandwiches, and two books." Arthur said tossing Alfred said books.

"But no wine cork" Arthur sighed sitting back down beside Alfred. Alfred, in turn, was suddenly aware of how close they were.

"Here trade" Alfred said handing him the books in exchange for the wine. He pulled out the cork with strong hands. And maybe the fact that it wasn't perfectly sealed.

"Hmm this is the same book as the one you lent me" Arthur said leaning back on one hand.

"How much have you read?" Alfred asked curious. Alfred may act like an idiot at times but he is actually quite smart.

"I got about halfway through" Arthur said flipping to the page he was at. It was a romance between a man of culture and a rather rebellious younger man. It was no wonder that Arthur hadn't heard of it. This was the only story from the time period that Arthur had heard of that featured two gay characters as leads.

"What you think?"

"It's pretty good. A bit Romeo and Juliet so far. The two met when everyone was at peace but are soon forced to choose sides. After a battle the two hate each other, or so they claim. In reality they have feelings that they can't admit to society."

"Who's the author?" Alfred asked. He had never given the time to check.

"Françoise Bonnefoy. That's weird she's one of the people who built the manor. She's the frog's ancestor…"

"the frog?" Alfred asked thoroughly confused.

"The owner of the manor, my land lord, and professional French git" Arthur sighed.

"Sounds like you really don't like him" Alfred stifled a laugh.

"He wouldn't be so bad if he would stop pestering me about-" Arthur stopped himself blushing beet red.

"About what?" Alfred asked innocently. The bastard had to press it.

"A-about our erm past experiences…"

"Meaning?"

"The time we did it!" Arthur said blushing madly. He wouldn't meet Alfred's eyes.

"Erm right…" Alfred said awkwardly.

"Let's just not get into this" Arthur sighed.

"good idea…." Alfred said shaking his head. People having casual sex how scandalous! "Want some wine?"

"I'd say yes but we don't have any glasses" Arthur shook his head.

"Who needs glasses!" Alfred said taking a swig straight from the bottle.

"Well most sophisticated people do." Arthur said rolling his eyes.

"Whatever! Screw sophistication!"

"Fine then" Arthur sighed grabbing the bottle and taking a swig himself. It was good and tasted old.

"Well you didn't need much encouragement!" Alfred laughed. Arthur snorted and gave him back the bottle.

"Whatever you say love" Arthur said rolling his eyes.

"pfft whatever!" Alfred said externally not hearing the 'love'. Internally he was panicking, until he remembered Arthur was British and that's just something they say.

"Damn it's cold" Arthur muttered. His pajamas were considerably less warm after landing on the ice. twice

"That's what you get for wearing pjs!" Alfred snickered.

"Shut up! I was distracted" Arthur hissed. He chose to ignore Alfred and read more of the book. The characters were currently running away from each other. One by surrendering the war, the other by winning the war. They met afterwards but it was a meeting filled with hate. One hated the other for breaking his heart, but was still in love with him. The one who had done the breaking was desperate, lonely, and scared. He didn't know what to do to make things better. Arthur found it odd that the characters names were simply 'America' and 'England', but the book stated they were code names.

"Don't ignore me!" Alfred said grabbing the book and holding it above his head. Arthur reached up for it but was too short.

"Give it back!" he growled still reaching for it. Alfred just laughed and held it higher. Arthur jumped up so he was standing and took it from the American's grasp.

"Aw that's no fair! I can't stand" Alfred pouted.

"All's fair in love and war" Arthur muttered sitting back down. Alfred didn't hear him though and Arthur was glad of it. What had he meant by that? He hardly knew the American git he wasn't in love, and they certainty weren't at war.

"Ha!" Alfred shouted as he grabbed the book again and quickly sat on it. "Now you can't get it!"

"Git" Arthur said glaring at said git.

"Whatever we came to hang out! Not for you to be a stuffy old man and read!"

"I'm not old! Or stuffy!"

"Says the one in tea pajamas!" Alfred laughed. He laid back he grinned at the scowling Britt.

"Arseface"* Arthur mumbled as he did the same as Alfred.

"Look!" Alfred said excitedly pointing at a cloud. "It looks like a ship!"

"That one looks like a bunny" Arthur said pointing at another.

They spent the rest of the afternoon like this pointing out different shapes in the clouds. This ended when Arthur fell asleep next to the American. He lay curled up to his warmth.

"Humph! Some fun you are falling asleep" Alfred teased at the sleeping man. He had to admit though it had been a nice afternoon. In the morning he had panicked slightly when Arthur didn't come. He had paced and paced until he ran into a pile of black canvases. He decided to paint just to distract his mind. Yet nothing worked. He kept thinking of the Britt. How little he knew about him, but how much.

"This can't be good" Alfred sighed. The first person he gets to talk with and he falls in love. Well maybe not love, maybe closer to a crush. It made sense. Arthur was attractive. Even with his massive eyebrows and horrid temper, Arthur was handsome. Alfred stopped his mind from wandering to erm _dangerous _thoughts.

"Here's to awkward" Alfred sighed as Arthur curled up closer. _'he must be so cold…'_ Alfred sighed and wrapped an arm around him in order to keep him warm. Just as he did so the frame shifted to a place just behind them.

"Finally!" Alfred said excitedly. He wanted nothing more than to just get 'home' and sleep under the warm sheets. He shook Arthur awake, but it didn't work that well.

"hmmmm…wha..?" Arthur said sleepily stretching. God he was adorable.

"Erm the frame moved so we can go back now" Alfred said making Arthur sit up.

"Okay…" Arthur said standing wobbly.

"I'll need your help" Alfred sighed as he stood more unstable than Arthur even.

"Right" Arthur said nodding slowly. Alfred put one arm over his shoulder so he could walk and Arthur led them to where the frame could be seen. Alfred pushed Arthur through first before climbing through himself.

"There we go" he sighed stepping into the warmth of his study. Arthur nodded sleepily and leaned on Alfred for support since he was still half asleep.

"Whoa there! I'm not steady either!" Alfred laughed as he in turn leaned on the wall for support. Arthur mutely nodded and stopped leaning on him but he looked too tired to really deal with anything other than sleep.

"Could I sleep here?" Arthur asked. He honestly was half asleep, because awake he would never say that. Awake he would be out of there and already sleeping in his own bed. If that made any sense…

"Sure Artie" Alfred said cheerfully. Internally he was screaming like a teenage girl. He only had one bed and he was sure he would probably end up hugging Arthur in his sleep. He didn't need that kind of awkward!

"good…" Arthur said walking sleepily towards Alfred's bedroom. He practically fell down on the bed and ignored the amused American following him. Alfred limped into the room and broke out into a smile when he saw Arthur simply fall onto the bed already asleep. He walked over to his bathroom to change out of his warm clothes into night clothes. Contrary to the times he refused to wear a night gown. He simply wore a pair of loose short pants and no shirt. He was just as tired as Arthur. Something about the cold weather always seemed to take all of his energy.

"Night Artie" He said slipping said man under the sheets before joining him. Arthur seemed to weigh nothing to the strong American. Soon they were both fast asleep beside each other. In his sleep Arthur moved closer to the American and Alfred hugged him. When they woke up things would totally not be awkward as fuck…

**0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0Morning0o0o0o0o0o0o0oX-maspolls!0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**

"hmm…" Arthur shifted in his sleep only to be stopped by powerful arms. He opened his eyes to see what was going on. He should be in his bed all alone. Where there were no American idiots that smelled like snow…

"Fuck!" Arthur said blinking. He was staring at Alfred's chest since he was pulled against it. He felt the blush creeping up his cheeks to his ears but ignored it. Right now he just needed to get out of this death grip. He tried to push off Alfred's arm but he was too strong/heavy.

"Wake up git!" Arthur said defeated. The only way he was getting out was if he woke him up.

"I said wake up!" Arthur pulled on some of Alfred's hair in an attempt to wake the American up. It worked…

"Fuuuuuck!" but maybe a little too well…

"Let me go!" Arthur snapped.

"R-right" Alfred pushed Arthur away, but he was blushing horribly. Arthur realized he had pulled on that insistent cowlick.

"Sorry I was just trying to wake you up…" Arthur felt a little guilty. He hadn't had to be so violent, but he really had to get out of his arms before he thought some unholy things.

"I-it's f-fine" Alfred muttered as he jumped off the bed and hurriedly walked over to the bathroom. "Excuse me" he said blushing.

"erm…" Arthur didn't want to think about that. Instead he focused on the fact that he was now freezing with the American gone. He sighed and pulled the blankets up so he was completely covered. He let his mind wander to yesterday. It had been nice. Alfred had proven to have quite the imagination, seeing an object in even the most misshapen cloud. Arthur could see where he got his art from. If you can look at a lump of air and water and still see a horse or boat you can see pretty much anything. Then if you add in very skilled hands and you get…Arthur shook his head at the scandalous thoughts going through his head.

"Wake up Artie" Alfred said poking him. Arthur moved the covers to see and found Alfred leaning over him. Said person had changed into his day clothes and had an annoyed look on his face. Arthur probably blushed but his face was still hidden so it didn't matter.

"You woke me up so it's not fair if you get to go back to sleep" Alfred said lying down beside Arthur. Said person was cursing their own overactive imagination. He could imagine some very un-pg things happening at the moment. For instance how if he turned ever so slightly he would only have to lean forward to kiss the American git.

"I only woke you up because you had me in a death grip!" Arthur snapped. He could feel his blush and was glad for the blanket.

"Sorry!" Alfred said blushing. However Arthur didn't know this since his back was turned to Alfred. Arthur did notice Alfred back most of the blankets though.

"Whatever it doesn't matter" Arthur sighed. He held on to his part of the blanket ignoring the American.

"Okay…" Alfred said trying to not think of how Arthur had pulled on, his affectionately named cowlick, Nantucket.* To say he was erm turned on was a bit of understatement. He was glad he been able to get up so quickly. Needless to say this was beyond awkward. However being the oblivious American idiot he was he thought since it was better now he could just go back to sleep. Seriously why did he have to get up?

"Crap! What time is it?" Arthur said suddenly jumping up. He glanced at his watch and found it was still early morning, but he still had things to do before noon.

"I'll be back around dinner time! I'll bring food!" Arthur said running out to leave. He heard Alfred laugh and couldn't help but think _'my American idiot…wait what!'_ needless to say Arthur hurried through the rest of the day to get back to_ his_ American idiot.

_**0o0o0o0o0oNOTES0o0o0oo0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0**_

_***don't question my logic. It makes sense if you look at it with a microscope and paint it purple. Maybe add some glitter...**_

_***Aresface is one of my favourite insults. It's basically just calling them a assface. don't worry I'll come up with better insults soon!**_

_***yes that is the name of his cowlick. no i haven't the foggiest why or what it means. I'm still going over the geography of my state...it's sad how little I know about my country's history...that and just the American education system in general.**_

_**So two things! One no I wasn't listening to American idiot when I wrote this, but I did right after I finished it before I did the final editing. Also if people haven't noticed I'm modeling Arthur on me. I hate to admit it but I'm a bit of a tsndere. Plus I cosplay fem!England. ALSO YAY! For Christmas I'm getting my cosplay! YES MOTHERFATHER YES! **_

_**ehm sorry. Also just for those of you haven't...GO VOTE ON MY POLL! I seriously need those results. Don't you people want Christmas stories? **_

_**While I'm on the topic (lol yea right) I'm doing the six lines on my arm from the 15-20. It's for people who cut or do any other form of selfharm. If you are currently harming you draw six lines on your left arm. If you're supporting this cause or used to harm you do six line on your right arm. I'm doing the right for those of you who suddenly panicked (again yea right)**_

_**Please review! Please follow! Please mother fucking review! I don't even care if you favourite I just need the feedback!**_

_***dream a little dream of me***_

_**-American Idiot by Green Day-**_

_**-Red**_


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